


The Price of Love

by Ijustneed12percentofamoment



Category: Captain America (Movies), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: All Magic Comes With a Price, Alternate Universe, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Feels, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Fluff, I have a lot of emotions about Infinity War, Implied Non-Con, M/M, Marvel References, No Spoilers, Non-Explicit Sex, Regina is particularly evil, Stucky - Freeform, a lot of things are implied, angst because that's all i can write apparently, angst minus the comfort, but themes from it are used, can't help but love rumple, doesn't follow any timeline, no knowledge needed from OUAT, pre winter soldier bucky, the maniac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:29:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9516983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ijustneed12percentofamoment/pseuds/Ijustneed12percentofamoment
Summary: Magic always comes with a price, and the price of love is even higher. But it’s a price that Bucky is more than willing to pay.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I’d write a Stucky fic – turns out I had to throw them into a different world before I stumbled across this idea. Having said that, I apologize for any mistakes made about the medieval themes of the OUAT world.
> 
> (I wrote this with inspiration of the structure of OUAT episodes in mind, hence the dual points of view. Hopefully it works)
> 
> Notes:  
> \- I do NOT own any of the Marvel or Once Upon A Time characters.  
> \- I know Sebastian Stan appears in OUAT playing Jefferson/The Mad Hatter, but this has no relation or significance to his character.  
> \- I’m not up to date with OUAT, so I don’t know what new and disastrous shenanigans Rumple and Regina have gotten up to – therefore this is purely based on the versions of them from seasons 1-3.  
> \- Lyrics at the beginning of the chapters are from Sam Smith’s song ‘Lay Me Down’ (which I also do not own).

 

_“Can I lay by your side?_

_Next to you,_

_And make sure you're alright.”_

 

 

_The two lovers hid in a secret part of the forest away from everyone, save the Evil Queen who watched them through her mirror with growing glee._

 

They grabbed fistfuls of each other’s shirts, desperately breathing in the taste of each other as lips pressed urgently and passionately. Quickly discarding jackets and tunics, the two young men, one a prince, the other the farthest from royalty, took a moment to catch their breath.

“My god, you taste good.” The shorter of the two breathed, and the prince grinned.

“I don’t want to go back there.” He replied, wrapping his arms tighter around the back of his lover and best friend.

“Steve, you can’t keep hiding forever. As much as I hate it there–” he was cut off with a soft kiss.

“Then don’t say it.” Steve whispered into his mouth. “We could do it you know, Bucky. We could leave this place, together. I’d do it in a heartbeat for you.” He slid his hands under Bucky’s shirt and pressed him closer against his chest.

Bucky stared up at those bright blue eyes that made his heart tug and his hands creep to Steve’s waist. The same eyes that belonged under a crown watching over the kingdom.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.” Bucky finally said, his voice husky from the truth he was holding back and the heat below his belt.

“Why?”

“Because I might just say yes.” That was a lie. He’d say yes in a second if it meant that they’d finally be together without having to hide.

“And that’s a bad thing…?” Steve asked distantly, leaning down to kiss Bucky’s neck.

The words dried up on his tongue as he reeled from Steve’s tender kisses. His eyes closed and he felt his head tip back while his hands gripped Steve’s belt and tugged him towards him, feeling the wall of the enormous tree they were concealed behind come up against his back.

 

_The image shimmered as Regina let the mirror return to projecting her own glamorous reflection._

_“_ Love _.” The Queen said softly to her reflection, a superior grin spreading along her lips. “The ultimate weakness.”_

_Soon her plan would be set in motion, and it would only be a matter of hours before the prince was dead and she took back what was rightfully hers._

 

Steve sucked on the delicate skin there, knowing it would produce a ridiculously sexy groan from Bucky that lit all of his nerves on fire. They pulled each other to the grass, the burning need for one another tamping down the fears of discovery.

Panting, moaning and arching, Steve gripped Bucky against him, their skin glistening and radiating heat. When they untangled themselves and absently adjusted their clothes, they lay there, remaining in the grass so that they could watch the sky slowly turn orange through the leaves of the oak tree. After the past week, they finally had all the time in the world – Steve had been stuck dealing with official duties with no time to sneak off, not even at night. When they’d risked a frenzied kiss in a dark corner, they had barely heard the chancellor and sheriff coming up the corridor in time. Bucky had been resigning to the fact that he’d be dragged away and locked in the cells below ground, when Steve jumped out of their hiding place and rushed towards them, using their surprize in his favour to distract them and lead them hurriedly in the opposite direction, claiming to need their help. When his heart had regained a normal speed, Bucky looked out from their corner, wondering how Steve managed to so confidently divert people’s attention from something that by now must surely be as apparent as the walls around them.

“I’m sick of hiding, Buck.” Steve whispered. Bucky’s lips quirked up at a corner, loving the way Steve called him that instead of James. He hated his first name, but no one but Steve knew it.

“So am I.” he agreed, tracing a line up Steve’s arm and along his collarbone.

“Then why are we?” Steve challenged and sat up abruptly, Bucky’s hand falling from the soft skin at the base of his throat and into his lap.

He sat up next to Steve and saw the desperate look in his eyes, the sort that terrified him. He couldn’t let Steve give everything up and run away. Not that Bucky didn’t want him to sometimes. God, he wanted to so badly. But Steve wasn’t just another knight in the King’s army, or even a member of the court – he was the prince for crying out loud, and that came with a certain amount of life choices that had been pre-selected for him. And running off to elope with his secret lover was definitely not one of them.

Bucky’s eyes were sad when he finally looked up at him.

This wasn’t the first time they’d fantasised about running away together, but this time, Bucky could see something was different. Steve was really considering it – and despite it making him so happy that he would do anything (possibly even treason) to make it happen, he wasn’t ready to let Steve do the same.

“Steve,” He began, looking anywhere but those god-forsaken beautiful blue eyes.

“We both know that you can’t be with me.” The words burned to say aloud and he forced the tremor out of his voice. “Not really. You’re destined to be married to some princess and to be the loyal, successful king you’ve always meant to be. The one I know you already are. Not a disgraced prince who ran away with one of his knights and abandoned his kingdom.” Bucky had his hand on Steve’s neck and he stared at his slightly parted lips, inches from his own. It took all his strength to draw away. Instead, his hand traced Steve’s jaw; thumb brushing against those lips that he wanted so badly to kiss.

“I’m not worth that, Steve.” Swallowing hard, Bucky dropped his hand, keeping his eyes low. “So don’t throw it away for me.”

The silence between them grew so loud that the birds above were drowned out.

Bucky suddenly felt foolish. He started to gather his coat before Steve caught his shoulder and slid his hand up against his neck, forcing him to turn back. His kiss was rough and passionate, and almost a little desperate, just like the very first time they had ever kissed. He willingly reciprocated, and by now Steve’s hands were running through his hair before he bit down gently onto his bottom lip. As Steve slowly drew away, he held Bucky’s gaze and saw confliction behind them.

‘God, if I could hold him forever…’ Steve thought, licking his own lips, the taste of Bucky’s mouth still lingering, and his mouth tipped upwards.

Steve’s face was warm and bright, his eyebrows arching with optimism.

“I don’t give a damn about destiny.” He told him truthfully, holding the sides of his face. “We make our own future, and the only one I’m interested in is ours.” Steve grinned then, and the breath froze in Bucky’s throat.

“I want _your_ future, Bucky.” He said. “Not anybody else’s.”

The smile that lit up Bucky’s face made Steve chuckle giddily and he stole one last kiss before an alarm broke through the buzz of the forest and their racing hearts. They both flinched and turned towards the direction of the castle.

The bell was tolling, loud and urgent – the sound of an enemy attack.

 

Both men had dressed hastily and were sprinting back through the forest to the castle.

Even over the tolling of the bell tower, they could hear the sounds of battle as they reached the edge of the trees. Drawing their swords, Steve and Bucky fought through the mass of enemy soldiers, drawing them away from the back entrance of the perimeter. They were met by other soldiers and knights, and finally made their way through to the giant wooden doors that had been successfully fortified thus far with barely more than a few scrapes and bruises.

As soon as they were inside the grounds, they were met with a new noise over the sombre tolling of the bell. People were scrambling and screaming, but it wasn’t just the battle outside that was the source of their fear and sadness.

A herald leant over from an inner rampart, terror on his face and in his voice as he cried, “The King is dead!”

 

_The soldier came running up to Regina’s black carriage, the ornate decorations spilling over it like the smoke she conjured for her magic. He was panting from both the battle and with the anxiety of pleasing her. Raising a hand to knock on the carriage door, he flinched when it opened on it’s own accord, revealing the Queen watching in interest the vision within an orb in her palm._

_“Should I send for the second round of troops, your majesty?”_

_Regina didn’t look away from the orb, showing the blonde prince as he rushed into the castle after his dead father._

_“No.” She said, finally looking up. Her voice flowed like treacle, “Draw back the troops, then send the second lot in one hour. And if anyone gets in my way of the prince, I’ll personally make sure they’re the next to suffer his fate.” She threatened, before an eager grin pulled at her lips as she peered back into the orb. “He’s mine.”_

 

“Your highness, my deepest sympathies!” A noble advisor bowed low and Steve halted his rush in the hall, hand still on the hilt of his sword.  
“Where is he?” he demanded, “What the hell happened?”

The older man stared at him with wide eyes, terrified of being the one to give him this news. He stuttered over the words pouring out of his mouth.

“It’s the Evil Queen, sir! Your farther – the King, was murdered…!” All he could do was point in the direction of the King’s chambers ahead and Steve rushed onwards. For the first time in a long time, Bucky couldn’t read the stony look on his face but guilt still needled its way into his heart.

They came to the King’s chambers and Bucky automatically halted outside, but Steve turned back before he pushed on the door.  
“Don’t make me go in there alone.” He pleaded, and sadness came over his face for the first time. Bucky gave him a sympathetic nod, rested a gentle hand on his shoulder before following him in silence.

“Your majes–” Steve held up a hand, cutting off the King’s official advisors’ formal address.  
“You know I don’t care for customs, Stark, now of all times. Please, just tell me what happened.”

The older man bowed his head in respect, before continuing. Bucky didn’t miss the cold glowering look he shot at him, and he felt his face burn with shame.

Bucky had always questioned whether Howard Stark suspected them of anything, and now it seemed like his worst fears had been proven. The fact that Stark was also the sheriff, made Bucky nervous of the way Steve so easily went about sneaking away with him. He spared a glance towards the older man, wondering whether he was just biding his time to build up evidence against his relationship with Steve – he was positive that Stark wouldn’t see his knighthood as any viable reason to overlook such a prosecution – on the contrary, it’d be the final nail.

“– Besides from myself, there were two other witnesses who saw the assassin, Sir.” He was saying to Steve. “She was small and agile, with flaming red hair, and faster than I would care to believe. I have already given out the search instructions for this woman, Steven.” His voice was laden with commiserations, and he was visibly moved by being witness to the murder of both his King and long time friend.

“There is a growing fear however, for the safety of this kingdom. You are our King now, but this is the Evil Queen’s doing. She wants to take back her land that your father fought her over, and she will stop at nothing until she has it. I am afraid that this is only the beginning; she will surely send more of her army in successive waves.”

“Then we make sure we give them a fight.” Steve said. Stark looked somewhat concerned, but nodded his approval.

“I’ll call for more troops. The Queen is drawing her army away as we speak, but I guarantee that they will be back before nightfall.” He bowed low, “Your highness.”

Bucky, a few steps behind Steve, nodded respectfully to the sheriff as he left, but he cast him a sneer of disdain in return, using his height to his full advantage. Bucky swallowed, the judgment making him look down and tug at his collar where he knew the mark Steve had given him earlier was hidden.

‘Don’t look down. Only the guilty look down.’ He chided himself, but he did feel guilty, as Stark glided past and out the door. In Stark’s eyes, this was Bucky’s fault. If he did suspect them, which he must, Bucky was sure that according to Howard Stark, he was somehow forcing himself upon Steve, and that only made Bucky feel worse.

Steve certainly didn’t let thoughts or fears like that stand in his way. He wouldn’t have cared if Stark suspected or not, and it was one of the reasons he loved him so much. Steve would stand in front of the all the gods in the universe and dare them to fight him in the name of justice. His heart spluttered a little when he thought about how Steve wouldn’t hesitate to stand against the world to fight for him. But Bucky also knew that it was his job, his responsibility protect the prince and not let him make foolish decisions; and in the light of this terrible tragedy, he felt the strain of guilt and pressure more so. Even so, he couldn’t help feeling depressed at knowing that _he_ was that foolish decision.

Looking at Steve now though, so sad and momentarily lost, Bucky forgot about hiding, forgot about acting like a royal knight.

Lost in grief for his father, Steve looked about the empty room, the body already having been removed from his chair at the ornate wooden table. Hands spread on the tabletop; Steve leant forwards, staring at the splattered bloodstain across the back of his father’s chair, unable to contemplate the fact that he’d snuck out of the grounds without even seeing him today.

Bucky tentatively put a hand on Steve’s back, waiting to see if he’d order him away or draw back. When he didn’t, Bucky slid his other hand up his arm and felt it tremble.

“I would have been sitting right here.” Steve said dully, staring at the wood beneath his hands.

“I’m so, so sorry, Steve.” Bucky whispered, and Steve let him fold him into his arms.

“It’s not your fault.” He finally said, his voice flat and muffled against Bucky’s neck. Steve looked up when he didn’t respond and ran his hand along the soft stubble that had begun to grow back along his cheek. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Buck.”

But he did, and Steve could see it.

“If I had been here, who knows if I would still be alive?” He said, and Bucky finally met his eyes. Steve eventually looked down, still working his way through the sudden loss. He wondered if he could have done something different – what if he’d stayed? Would he have survived fighting this assassin? What if Bucky had gotten in the way? He frowned and instinctively fisted his hands into Bucky’s clothes to hold him close, refusing to entertain the thought.

“What can I do?” Bucky whispered, holding the sides of his face. He kissed his forehead, then his cheek, slowly brushing his fingers through his hair. “Tell me what you need.”

Steve held onto him, sinking into the spaces along his neck, arms and chest. He took a deep breath, Bucky’s familiar scent making him feel safe again.

“I need _you_.” He said. “You worry that you’re distracting me, but you’re saving me everyday just by being here. And that’s all I need – I just need you here by my side.”

Bucky smiled, “I can do that.” He kissed the top of Steve’s head and hugged him tighter. “I love you.”

…

When the alert came from the watchmen that the second wave of soldiers were coming from the Queen, it was the city’s new King that assured his people that they would not lose this fight, by helping them defend it himself.

The battle was bloody, but short lived. Steve couldn’t help but think it was a waste of men sending them here against his own. The Queen was outnumbered and poorly supplied.

“Something’s wrong.” Bucky called to him, wiping the blood staining his hands onto his pants.

Steve nodded before another black-cladded enemy soldier rushed at Bucky.

“Lookout!” he called, and Bucky swivelled and slammed his elbow against the throat of the oncoming soldier. Falling to his knees, Bucky hit him over the head with the hilt of his sword and let him fall.

“Anyone would have thought you weren’t here.” Bucky joked, glancing down at the soldier. “Most of these people aren’t even trying.”

“It’s a suicide mission.” Steve agreed, frowning out at the gradually decreasing threat. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“You think she’s got something else planned?”

“Yeah,” Steve looked over at his best friend and didn’t think it was fair that he could look so attractive splattered with blood and dirt in the middle of a battle. “I think we’re missing something.”

“Like what? We’ve got every entrance covered.”

Lit against the last glowing embers of the setting sun, Steve shook his head, puzzled. Bucky couldn’t help but grin in admiration – the sun lit his blonde hair like a halo, and his blue eyes were the colour of the enchanted lagoon where the mermaids tricked men into its depths.

There was a moment of sudden lulled silence before a speeding flash of dark movement made Bucky flinch, while Steve cried out and stumbled from the impact.

“Steve!” Bucky cried, shielding him from another possible attack.

A long black arrow protruded from the soft muscle between Steve’s shoulder and collarbone, having sunk deep into its target.

Steve grimaced, griping Bucky’s shoulder tightly. “It’s alright.” His voice was thick with pain.

“Do you want me to remove it?” Bucky asked tentatively, eyeing the wound. Steve shook his head, swallowing.

“No, let Banner attend to it.”

Without warning, Bucky saw Steve’s face change into one of agony and confusion. He grasped Bucky desperately as he lost his footing, biting back a moan.

“Steve!” Bucky clutched him around the waist, watching his eyes shine with fear. Glancing around himself, Bucky recognized the knight closest to him by the signature wing emblem engraved upon his armour.

“Sam! Help me, quickly!”

He rushed to Bucky’s side and took some of Steve’s weight.

“Get him to Banner’s, hurry.” Bucky instructed. Steve was hyperventilating, his body tense with convulsive spasms.

“What’s happening?” Sam asked.

Panic was threatening to override Bucky’s methodical thinking, “The arrow – I think it’s poisoned.”

  

They burst into the physician’s quarters, already busy with injured soldiers and townsfolk.

Having no time to wait for a cot to be vacated, Bucky lead them to a table that Sam quickly cleared.

“Doctor!” Bucky called, while instructing Sam to lift Steve’s feet. Together they set him gently onto the tabletop before Doctor Banner appeared next to them, immediately inspecting the arrow.

Heart pounding, Bucky watched him look over the wound, muttering and shaking his head, yet remained completely calm.

“Well?” He asked, unable to contain his anxiety.

Banner looked stricken, and removed his spectacles, his hand trembling as he wiped his face with a rag – Bucky didn’t miss it and his heart leapt into his throat.

“I can remove it, and give him something for the pain, but… it’s been tipped in poison.” The doctor explained, as he looked away from Steve.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked when Bucky couldn’t.

Banner took a breath a lowered his voice, “It means that there’s no cure.”

Bucky’s knees gave out and he caught the side of the table, his stomach plummeting.

“Buck…” Steve groaned, his voice gravely before his eyes rolled back into his head.

“I’m here, Steve. I’m right here.” He dashed forward and took Steve’s hand between both of his, onlookers be damned.

He was vaguely aware of the doctor giving him his condolences, and eventually Sam left to give the news to the heralds.

Bucky remained in place while Doctor Banner removed the arrow and bound the wound, but nothing took away the tremors from Steve’s skin or the strain from his breath.

Through it all, their grip never shifted – Steve was clutching onto Bucky’s hand like a vice through the pain, and that was okay with him – as long as he was clutching his hand, he knew Steve was still breathing.

When the doctor was done, Bucky stopped him before he left to attend to the other patients, moving away as far as Steve’s grip would allow.

“How long–?” His voice broke off, unable to tear his gaze away from the writhing figure on the table. Bucky swallowed and brushed his spare hand over his face, the exhaustion and stress finally hitting him, the urge to collapse to the ground and sob almost overwhelming.

“It’s a slow working poison, made to be drawn out and painful.” Banner’s grim face was sympathetic, unmoved by their bond – Bucky felt a surge of kindness towards the physician. Banner glanced back down at the newly appointed King.

“He’s strong; he might last two days at most. I’m sure having someone with him will help during that time.”  
“Are you really telling me that there is _nothing_ we can do for him? It’s magic right? Can’t we use magic to cure him?”

“James, this isn’t just poison – this is dark magic; _forbidden_ magic that only the Queen and the Dark One can conjure. I’m sorry – there is nothing we can do for him now, save to end his suffering.”

Bucky flinched, the pain of the thought sucking his breath away and leaving him cold. He was still unwilling to accept the doctor’s diagnosis, much less take up his final suggestion.

Left alone with Steve as he slipped in and out of consciousness, Bucky collapsed into a chair and lent his elbows atop the edge of the table, bringing their clutched hands up to his lips. Steve’s grip was clammy from his burning temperature, and Bucky brushed his face, noting how he flinched against his touch, a moan caught in his throat.

Tears burned behind his eyes, hating to see Steve suffer, yet unable to bring himself to end it, even if it did mean that he’d be helping him in the only known way. Bucky choked on the burning tears that welled in his throat before they rose over and spilled down his face.

“I can’t do this without you, Steve.” He sobbed, pressing his lips against Steve’s knuckles. Immediately he felt the grip around his hand relax and panic shot through him.

“No, no, Steve…! Hey, Steve, I’m here. Stay with me, please.” He begged, tears blurring his vision. He brushed Steve’s hair with trembling fingers, Steve’s blood still staining them from earlier.

His breathing was laboured, but Bucky saw his lips move and leant in close enough that lips brushed against his ear.

“I love you too, Buck.”

Bucky held the side of Steve’s face, his own crumpling with emotion. Trembling, and seeing him rapidly losing consciousness again, Bucky held Steve’s gaze and whispered,

“I’m going to find you a cure, Steve. No matter what.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

_“Yes, I do, I believe_

_That one day I will be_

_Where I was right there_

_Right next to you.”_

 

 

The forest was silent in the looming darkness. Looking around himself, Bucky pressed his lips into a worried line, wondering whether he was wasting precious time. It was a wildcard move, coming to him for help, but at this point, Bucky was ready to do anything to save Steve.

“Ah, desperation. It’ll make one agree to almost anything.” A voice crowed, and Bucky spun to see the shorter man perched upon a rock jutting out above him.

Rumplestiltskin. His crocodile-like skin was still evident in the moonlight and when he grinned mischievously, Bucky caught sight of sharpened teeth.

Swallowing his trepidation, Bucky straightened.

“I need your help.” He admitted, sounding more imploring than he’d intended.

Rumplestiltskin laughed manically, and he threw a hand up in triumph.

“I do love it when people tell me that!”

Bucky flinched when the laughter came from behind him, and instinctively felt for his sword that he had left behind.

Up close, Rumplestiltskin was terrifying. Dangerous and unpredictable yet oddly superior, Bucky easily saw how he had gained a reputation for being devious, volatile and relentless; could sense it radiating off of him like a wild animal.

Rumplestiltskin was too human to be considered a monster, yet his immortality from becoming the Dark One had prevented him from ever being wholly human.

Bucky knew Rumple worked to benefit only himself, and he had come prepared to negotiate.

“My friend is dying–”

“Ah yes, the fatal poison that threatens your _twu love_.” He waved a hand in a mock pantomime action, his long dark nails like claws.

Bucky stared at him, stunned at how he knew about Steve. Rumplestiltskin saw it and his eyes glinted, tilting his head like a bird.

“I know all about you, dearie,” He teased in a high voice that made Bucky’s skin crawl.

“I need a cure.” Bucky told him, still trying to be intimidating, but Rumplestiltskin was the last person to ever be intimidated, especially by a mortal. His eyes became sad and desperate. “ _Please_.” He begged the scaly creature.

Rumplestiltskin just stared at him before a shark’s grin slowly spread across his lips, revealing all of his tiny, sharp teeth.

“Magic, dearie, _always comes with a price_.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, wanting this deal to be over with already.

“What do you want.” He snapped through gritted teeth. He’d heard the stories, knew that he never gave you anything without a heavy price. But Bucky was ready to pay it for Steve.

Rumplestiltskin cackled with wicked joy and something that resembled dark and twisted childish excitement. He danced closer to Bucky, leaning in close and hissed,

“ _Your memories._ ”

 

Bucky blinked, not expecting something so… impossible. How was he to give up his memories? All of them? All his memories of Steve? How would he know Steve or even himself afterwards?

“It’s the only thing valuable enough to exchange for the cure. It _is_ dark magic, you know.” Rumple stated sarcastically.

Bucky didn’t trust Rumplestiltskin, but he trusted Steve; knew he’d always do whatever it took. He trusted Steve with his life, but right now, all he had to do was trust Steve with his memories.

“Alright.” He said, but held up a hand. “But, I… I need time to go back and… say goodbye.”

“Ooh, well I’d love to see you try and give him this,” Rumple tossed him a small vial and Bucky grappled to catch it. “without your memories.” He sniggered. “But I have conditions as well.”

Bucky looked up from the glistening blue liquid inside the bottle to see the Dark One inches from his face.

“If you’re not back here within three hours, the deal is off and you’re friend is dead. So don’t try any tricks with me.”

Bucky was quick to nod his acceptance.

“You have a deal.”

Rumplestiltskin stared at him, lip pulling up in a sneer.

“Tick tock, dearie.”

…

_The smoky image of Rumple watching the knight leave the forest faded from view, the Queen’s anger fueling her magic until a wave of energy blasted out around her, shattering mirrors, windows and chandeliers._

_“Rumplestiltskin!” she screamed, summoning the selfish bastard so she could force him to reverse his deal._

_As if he’d decided to appear on his own, the Dark One looked casually around the newly destroyed room in amusement, chuckling and dancing around in the debris, kicking the broken glass and crystal like autumn leaves._

_“My my, what happened here? Lost something?”_

_“Ugh!_ You _have a nerve, messing with my plans, Rumple._ Explain yourself. _”_

_“Erm, last time I checked,” He held up a finger and crunched his nose “I don’t work for you.”_

_“You_ knew _that I wanted the prince dead! Why are you helping him?” She demanded, her anger causing her to see anything other than her plans being carelessly destroyed._

_“You’re not thinking of the bigger picture, dearie.” Rumple teased._

_“Of course I am – I had everything planned out, and he was so close; just a few more hours and I would have been taking over that kingdom his father stole from me.”_

_“As usual, you refuse to look beyond your revenge.” Rumplestiltskin strode through the shattered mess. “Think of the_ possibilities _!” He cackled gleefully, like he always knew something the other didn’t._

_Which he always did._

_“What are you talking about?” Regina scowled, lip turned up impatiently._

_“Your prince will still die, I promise you that. But just think how delightful it would be if you had something better than a poison arrow?”_

_“I’m listening…” she raised an eyebrow._

_Rumple appeared at her side, but after knowing him this long, the Queen did not flinch._

_“A_ chess piece _. Your very own, living, breathing pawn to do as you please.”_

_The Queen’s eyes lit up as she regarded the Dark One._

_“You mean…?” She thought back to the dark haired soldier with those grey-blue eyes and strong features._

_Regina thought he’d make a fine new addition to her collection._

_Rumple’s eyes glinted and his fingertips eagerly danced against each other._

_“I’ll make you a deal…”_

  

Bucky rushed through the silent corridors of the castle, making his way up to the royal quarters.

Back when they were in their frivolous teenage years, Bucky had been foolish enough to agree to sneak into Steve’s chambers one night. While it was one of the best nights of his life, he would never forget the fear of almost getting caught the next morning.

A few years later when he reached twenty-one and was awarded his knighthood, Bucky remembered looking up at the King and feeling the immense trust he had towards Bucky protecting his son. Love made him brave, possibly even stupid, but it weighed on his conscious so much that he insisted that if they were to meet, it would have to be somewhere outside of the Keep.

Now, he dashed up the stairs to Steve’s room where he had been brought from the physician’s quarters before Bucky had left to seek out the Dark One. He had stopped briefly at his own quarters on his return to write a note to himself in simple points about where to come and who to look for after he gave up his memories to Rumplestiltskin. If all went to plan, he hoped it would return him safely to Steve.

The guard posted at the end of the corridor nodded at him as he passed, before he came to the large wooden door of Steve’s bedchambers. As soon as he was inside the dark room, lit with a few small oil lanterns, Bucky could hear the fevered moans and labored breathing. Sitting gently on the edge of the bed, Bucky eased the lid off of the small bottle Rumple had given him and slid his hand around the back of Steve’s head.

“Steve, can you hear me?” He whispered, brushing his thumb across his cheekbone. Steve’s eyelids fluttered as he continued to suffer through the poison, but didn’t open. “I need you to drink this, okay? It’s going to help.”

Bucky carefully lifted his head and helped him drink the thick, blue-ish liquid, making sure he swallowed it all.

Setting the bottle aside, he watched as Steve immediately began to breath easier, the deathly pallor in his face becoming gradually warmer.

Joy and relief punched through Bucky so hard that his eyes shone with tears as he smiled down at Steve. How he wished he could slide under the covers with him and keep him warm until he woke, but the looming threat of completing his deal with Rumplestiltskin turned his tears into ones of sadness.

Bucky leant down to kiss him one last time before he left, his tears falling onto Steve’s cheeks. Holding the sides of his face, he touched their foreheads together, and remembered the feel of Steve’s body pressed against his, the warmth of his breath on his skin and the way he smiled at him like they were the only two people in the world. He remembered the first time Steve had told him he loved him, and he swallowed back his tears. Unwillingly drawing back, he watched Steve ease back into a safe, healthy deep sleep.

‘I’ll find my way back to you.’ Bucky thought confidently. ‘If there’s one person who can help me find myself again, it’s you.’

…

Hearing movement ahead of him in the forest, Bucky quickened his step, fear getting the better of him. It had been a dark night, the moon completely hidden by clouds by the time he got to the edge of the forest. He’d made foolish mistakes and it took him too long to realize he’d taken a wrong turn. Bucky had brought his sword along with him this time, as well as a compass and two daggers in a sheath resting against the small of his back, partly in case Rumple tried anything, and partly because Bucky was worried how long it might take him to find his way back home.

As he finally rounded the corner of the rocky outcrop he had found Rumplestiltskin at earlier, Bucky froze in his tracks when he found the Evil Queen waiting for him instead. She stood in front of her extravagant carriage, dressed in rich black and red material falling in billowing waves from her waist. She had a wicked gleaming necklace made of black gemstones that shone against her porcelain skin and connected to the top of her bodice like regal, elegant armor.

Small glowing orbs of white fire were floating in a wide circle, surrounding the clearing. The Queen had also brought a handful of her black clad soldiers who remained in the shadows of the light along the outskirts. Rumplestiltskin was nowhere to be seen.

Rage burned inside him as he pieced everything together. The assassin; the smoke screen of a battle, just to draw Steve out into the open; the poison arrow – it all made sense now, except for the part where he was allowed to cure Steve. Sword already in his hand, Bucky glowered at Regina.

“You orchestrated this whole thing, didn’t you.” He spat the accusation.

Regina was impressed; he actually looked terrifying. Yes, he’d be perfect.

She laughed at him, shaking her head,

“Of course I did. Quite impressive too, that shot, considering how far away I was.” She beamed at herself, pride and ego overflowing.

“But this? No, I hadn’t planned on this.” She sounded put out, gesturing to them standing in the clearing, before shrugging. “I was just given a better deal.”

The hairs on the back of Bucky’s neck prickled as he realised he’d just been fooled by the Devil and his Mistress – Rumple, that two-faced son of a bitch. He swallowed, heart pounding as panic set in, fully aware of being alone here in this trap he’d agreed to – nothing good could come from these two working in league with each other.

“I wont let you kill him.” He threatened, raising his sword.

“Oh please.” The Queen rolled her eyes and with a wave of her hand, Bucky’s sword was wrenched from his grip and sent flying into the darkness.

“You’ll never even know if I kill him or not.”

His memories. Was he really saving Steve, or had he just prolonged his execution? Bucky suddenly felt sick, his face falling.

Regina stepped closer to him, a puppeteer overlooking her new star of the show. She grinned at the agony shining in his eyes and almost felt sorry for him. Instead she laughed with satisfaction.

At the sound of her voice, Bucky snapped.

Muscle memory took over as he saw red, and his hands acted for themselves. Knives were thrown; bodies moved too slowly; blood splattered.

Regina gasped, throwing her hand up to freeze the knight and the daggers in place. She looked down and pulled out the short knife from her stomach and stumbled back a few steps. She touched the blood that stained her heavily embroided dress, shocked for the first time in years.

 

From his frozen stance, Bucky tried to gasp, tried to pull away from her magic holding him in place, but he was caged within his own body. He matched her withering glare before Regina shocked him by healing herself and brushed away the daggers frozen in mid-air like flies. He realised too late just how much her rage drove her magic as he was released from her hold, only to be dragged back by snaking arms curling around his stomach, arms and legs. Struggling in the embrace, Bucky grappled with the vines and tree branches that had come alive at the Queen’s will, wrapping themselves around him until he hung spread-eagled three feet above the ground. Bucky pulled at them in vain but they only constricted tighter around him and he grimaced in pain, Regina clicking her tongue in disapproval. She cocked her head up at him, pulling him closer with another gentle hand movement. He drifted back towards the ground until he was directly in front of her, still twitching against the vines. Her eyes had no leniency, no mercy in their depths, showing no emotion when he moaned from the branches curling around his chest, his arms quaking once more before falling still.

“Oh, you are quite a pleasant surprize.” Regina admired in a purring voice, looking him up and down like a rare animal. She saw the way his steel-blue eyes shone in the low light, the only indication of emotion on his otherwise controlled face. She liked the way his face was cast in shadow, adding to his dangerous glare and highlighting his sharp cheekbones and jaw; but she liked his eyes the best. They told her everything she wanted to know if she looked in the right spot.

Regina leaned close to him and caressed the side of his face with her feather-light touch and he tried to flinch away, his jaw muscles working as he clenched it. Her mouth split into an amused, wide grin, chuckling nastily.

Bucky’s heart was pounding in his veins, the pressure from the branches amplifying it through his whole body. He struggled for breath, but managed to growl,

“What do you want with me?”

“That’s just it. I want you.” She said truthfully, letting the confusion and panic cross his eyes before she pounced.

“And what do we have here?” Her voice was light and teasing as to his horror, the Queen drew out the note he had written himself.

“Hey!”

Her hungry eyes quickly skimmed through the page of notes before her face lit up with amusement.

“ _‘…You’ll be let into the grounds… some people might call you James…’_ ” she was quoting with a mocking voice.

“That’s not yours to read!” he shot but she ignored him, continuing to read,

“ _‘…But the prince will recognise you. Steve will know you unlike anyone else, and he’ll never give up on you. He’ll help you find yourself again.’_ ”

“Stop it.” He warned, pulling at the vines again. He felt something in his arm snap and he cried out.

The menace in his voice was enough to make the Queen look up in surprize. The mocking emotion was replaced again with her usual cold tone.

“How touching.” Without taking her eyes off her prisoner, Regina scrunched the paper up and lit an orb of fire in her palm, the paper wilting and disintegrating instantly.

“No!” He yelled, eyes wide as he watched his only chance at redemption burn to ashes. The building fear of loss was welling inside him like a tidal wave, and he was rapidly running out of air. His head dropped forward, and Regina stepped close to him, lifting his chin and grabbed him around the throat, enjoying watching his internal struggle.

“Don’t worry James, you won’t be needing that where you’re going.”

Bucky’s lip curled in a sneer, and she didn’t miss it.

“Or should I call you Bucky…?” she whispered low, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

He flinched, pressing his lips into a hard line. The way she said it made him feel physically ill – only Steve called him that; no one could have known about his nickname. Bucky could feel her breath on his neck and he struggled to keep his face expressionless. His eyes failed him.

Regina shook her head, grinning connivingly; all her precious chess pieces lining up nicely. She’d owe Rumple for this, but it was worth it. She pulled her hand back and he drew in a rasping breath.

“True love,” Regina spat the words like they were dirt in her mouth. “The most dangerous of bonds that people willing shackle themselves to. It is a _weakness_ , constantly holding you captive.”

Everything inside him was screaming and burning with pain, but Bucky lifted his chin defiantly.

“You’re wrong.”

Her eyes shone for the briefest of moments, and she tilted her head, squeezing the vines around him just to see his resistance turn into a grimace.

“We shall see.” Changing tactics, she signalled to two of her soldiers, her voice returning to her casual authority. “Doesn’t matter, we’ll find a new name for you, soldier.”

Bucky felt the tree vines relax around him and he began to hyperventilate as the constriction eased. His feet had barely touched the earth again when he was struck over the head from behind and he fell, the lights around him blinking out.

 

_Regina inspected her blood-stained dress and scowled, using magic to clean the lush velvet._

_“Are you going to thank me now or not?” Rumple cackled. Regina looked up at the sudden appearance of her mentor sitting cross-legged opposite her in the carriage, and raised an eyebrow. “I suppose. Thank you, Rumple. Although I still don’t approve of you going behind my back – can’t we call this even?”_

_He frowned, pondering for a while, hating to give out a free pass._

_“I’ll get back to you on that.” He looked down at the floor of the carriage._

_“Well dearie? What are you going to do with him?” Rumple’s tone was calculating, curious even, but there was always an echo of the manic behind his voice._

_She regarded the unconscious knight lying bound on the floor by her feet steadily._

_“With a pretty face like that? Anything I want.”_

…

The taste of blood in his mouth was the first thing Bucky noticed when he was jolted awake. Another kick to his stomach alerted him that he was on a hard cold floor. Bright light assaulted his eyes when he opened them, and he groaned when he tried to move away from whoever stood above him. Bucky gazed beyond his bound wrists held up in a yielding gesture to see Rumplestiltskin looking down at him, his foot raised and ready to kick him again. Instead, he lent down and dragged him by his shirt to his knees.

Struggling to remember the night before through the pounding in his head, Bucky looked up in surprise at Rumple; the fact that he _could_ remember it meant he hadn’t taken his memories yet. The question was, why? Bucky frowned, until the sight of Regina over by a metallic table in the corner of the room sent ice sinking to his gut. He also noticed that his injuries had been healed, and he couldn’t shake the dread that loomed in the back of his mind, warning him it was leading to something he was never coming back from.

Regina came over to pace around him, her heels slowly clacking along the marble floor as she dragged a sharp fingernail across his body as she circled him, starting at one shoulder and along his back before eventually creeping up his neck and around his ear. Bucky shivered at her touch, gritting his teeth like she was dragging a pin across his skin, refusing to meet her gaze when she came full circle to stand in front of him.

 

_As he surfaced from the deepest sleep he’d ever had, Steve breathed deeply, relishing the ability to do so. Still in the shadowy half realms of sleep and consciousness, Steve vaguely remembered the feel of lips against his and the wetness of tears on his face. He could still feel the heaviness of someone sitting next to him._

_“Buck…” He began to smile, before he opened his eyes and saw that he was alone in his room._

_Sitting up, he looked around himself before noticing the bandage still wrapped around his shoulder. Pulling at the length of cloth, Steve tore it off in a hurry, revealing the healed and smooth skin underneath, a light dimple of a scar the only evidence of anything ever being there to begin with. Glancing over at the small table that stood by his bed, he lent over and picked up the bottle that had been left there._

_Mind reeling, Steve leapt out of the bed and hurriedly dressed and ran for the door, headed for the forest._

_The royal staff were about to lose their minds at the sight of him._

 

Beyond the point of caring, Bucky got to his feet and stood over the Queen. If she wasn’t wearing her hair in an extravagant domed tower and pointed heels, he would have been taller than her. Regina didn’t waver as she stared back at him.

“How did you know about us?” He demanded, searching for any traces of humanity in those dark eyes. Instead, a slow creeping smile came across her lips, eager to show off how she had captured him in her net.

“I’ve been watching the Prince for months now, just waiting for the opportune moment to attack. But it was Rumple that made me stop and pay attention to you.”

Bucky blinked, sparing a suspicious glance over her shoulder at the Dark One standing by the window. When he caught his eye, Rumple waggled his fingers and showed all his sharp teeth in an impish grin.

Regina stepped away from him and moved up the three steps to where a full length mirror stood in a gilded frame.

“And for what? Land?”

“That kingdom belongs to me!” she snapped. “I was blindsided and it was stolen from me.”  
“Steve didn’t do that though!” He argued, before he could stop himself. He felt foolish as soon as he’d said it, only confirming what she already knew.

“Ah yes, the brave, handsome prince and his forbidden relationship with his best friend and knight.” Her words were harsh and he flinched. The Queen touched the mirror and he watched as the reflective surface clouded over and swirled, before an image of the forest appeared in the frame.

His blood froze as soon as he saw the small clearing with the huge oak tree he and Steve often escaped to.

“Killing him would be effective, but much too easy. I realized I wanted him to suffer for being King – to let him keep his kingdom but at the price of his true love.” Regina was saying. Bucky couldn’t breathe. Stepping slowly closer to the mirror, he watched in trepidation, fearing what he would see.

And then he heard it. Just barely, as if was coming from five rooms away, but he couldn’t misplace that voice.

He felt his heart tear when Steve appeared in the mirror.

“Bucky?” he called, looking both expectant and worried as he scanned the forest desperately.

The heat was burning Bucky’s throat and he felt his bottom lip tremble. He was happy to see him so healthy and full of life again, but it killed him to not be there, celebrating with him, laughing and kissing his smiling lips while Steve held his waist…

“Buck, where are you?” He heard him call again.

_I’m here, Steve, I’m right here._

He could hear Steve’s voice from the previous day (had it really been only yesterday?), sounding so sad. _“I just need you here by my side.”_

Bucky had promised. He’d assured him that he would gladly always be there by his side.

Steve stood right in front of him now, taking up the mirror, his eyes scared.

Trembling, Bucky’s bound hands rose up to touch Steve’s face, and a single tear fell down his cheek.

“Even when I had nothing, I had Steve.” He whispered to himself, and Regina heard it.

The image swirled and was gone, slowly becoming a mirror again.

Bucky blinked his eyes clear, spinning on the Queen–

Regina plunged her hand into his chest and he gasped as her hand clenched around his heart. Eyes wide with horror, Bucky choked on the thick mass surrounding his heart, and she squeezed the pulsing organ, driving Bucky to his knees with a cry.

Her grin was a cruel slash of red across her face as she lifted his chin to see the look of dawning terror rising in his eyes, and she fed off it, felt it expanding in her chest like a balloon. She could wait; she could wait forever if it meant her revenge would finally be dealt.

Cupping her hand on the side of his face, she leaned down to meet his gaze behind his hair that had fallen across his eyes.

“Now when you have nothing, you’ll have no one. Not even yourself.” She ripped his heart out and Bucky screamed, falling forward onto his hands, coughing and hyperventilating.

Her voice had a sing-song lightness, but there was something deeply sinister behind it, like a cruel lullaby. “And you’ll obey everything I tell you.”

 

“Oh my, and people accuse me of being cruel.” Rumple rose an eyebrow, impressed with how far his student had come.

Regina didn’t look up from the heart in her hand, magic making it glow bright and keeping it pulsing in her hand.

“His memories are all yours.” She finally said.  
“I’ve added conditions to my deal.” He stopped her and she looked back.  
“What sort of conditions?” She watched him carefully.

“I’ll take his memories now, as well as every month for a year.” He crossed his arms. “Then we’ll be even. Plus that should give you time to finish this Prince off with your new toy here.”

Regina pursed her lips, not liking this new adjustment.

“Think of it this way – I’ll be wiping his memory regularly; he wont have any chance of remembering where he’s come from and what you’re doing to him.” he offered.

Well, she did like the sound of that.

“Alright you have a deal.” She returned to the table to place her new heart in the box she’d placed there, identical to the many others she had gradually collected.

Rumplestiltskin crouched next to Bucky kneeling on the floor.

“Please don’t…” He rasped, clutching at his chest where his heart had been, shaking bodily with fear.

“Hold still now, and it wont hurt too much.” Rumple told him in his reptilian voice, fingers dancing inches from his temple.

Bucky groaned, fighting to hold onto that last kiss he’d shared with Steve in the forest, moments before their whole world had been tipped upside down, but with a bright, fierce pain like fire, it was ripped away from his memory until he was left with a strange numbing emptiness and a throbbing pain radiating through his skull.

Rumple dragged the translucent, liquid like string of memories from the knight’s head, shining golden in most parts and darker in others, and captured them in a small glass vial. He sealed it with a cork and bounced back to his feet, bowing low and theatrically to Regina who had been watching with interest.

A devoid vacantness came over the knight, his frowning eyes looking a little duller with the absence of memories, like Rumple had taken some of their light with him. Regina didn’t mind. Her grey-eyed soldier belonged to her now – she would give him new memories.

“Until next time.” Rumplestiltskin waved over his shoulder, striding to the window. She waited for him to disappear before looking back down at the beating heart in the box and she stared into its glowing light, a dark smile creeping upon her lips.

Clicking her fingers, a section of the wall next to her slid across, torchlight coming from within.

The knight looked from her to the wall, utterly lost as he witnessed magic for what seemed to be the first time.

Without taking her eyes off him, she spoke to the woman who emerged from the hidden space.

“Natasha, we have a new recruit. Take our friend down to the Red Room.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my first multi-chapter fic if you got this far! I promise I don’t just write tragic endings.  
> I might write more of this “episode”, if I have time between my other planned fics – it might even end happily...! We’ll see.


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